Partners In Crime
by bitterberries
Summary: It was the first time he ever referred to her using her actual name. [AU]


**title:** partners in crime  
 **rating:** T  
 **pairing:** jerza  
 **disclaimer:** I do not own fairy tail.  
 **notes:** oldoldold tumblr request

 **summary:** it was the first time he ever referred to her using her first name.

* * *

"You're an idiot."

He scoffs. "Says the one who got stabbed _in the thigh_."

"You were _supposed_ to cover for me," she moans, dropping her head back further into the pillow. Erza watches— mopes, more like, as he gingerly tilts the open disinfectant bottle into a large cotton pad, mulling over the possibility of him actually knowing how to properly clean a wound.

After all, he usually made the first kills, always loaded the artillery, and she always had to save his ass and tend to his spontaneous recklessness with the same bottle he was holding now. His hands never gave off that nursing vibe. And her getting injured— this predicament hasn't happened before.

"Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Have a little faith in me," Jellal mumbles, sneering a second later. "Let Dr. Fernandes make you feel better."

" _Dr. Fernandes_ ," she repeats in a derisive tone. " _Sure_."

He only smiles.

"This _won't_ happen again, just so you know."

"Uh-huh, sure."

His calloused fingers feel sensitive against her skin as he fixes her injured leg over his lap.

"Don't move," Jellal whispers in a whole new character, scrutinizing her thigh. He cradles her like someone would with a relic, as if she is the important piece of evidence that would assist them in solving a case. Erza bites her lip. A blush illustrates over her cheeks, and she swallows, somewhat anxious.

"We'll go on your signal, Scarlet," her partner says in a deep voice, bright green eyes looking up towards hers. Erza rolls her eyes at his poor role playing. He says it like they're hiding. Like they're flattening themselves against glass walls and steeling their resolves before entering a daunting corridor.

Raising one bandaged arm, she signals him with the newest gesture they learned from their last movie night. (They'd tackled the first two Hunger Games movies and scarfed through two boxes of popcorn that evening.) She throws out the mocking jay salute, and whistles the smooth melody that partnered with it.

Jellal whistles back, and for a moment, she forgets all about the wet catalyst between his digits that would soon engorge her leg in brief agony.

"Here we go," he says under his breath, unhindered focus sprawled deep into his bold features. Erza hisses out the loudest _fuck_! as the sharpest pain shoots through her leg. When Jellal weighs the pad down with building pressure, she gasps for air, and bites her fist. The discomfort is so great that tears brim the corner of her lids.

"Just a minute more," Jellal reassures, noticing this. He isn't laughing, for once, and she's grateful, because she is in no mood to kick him square in the nose. Erza whimpers at the disinfectant burning deep into her thigh.

"Just… a few more seconds…and…done." Jellal casts the nasty pad into the faraway trash can with middling effort. He moves up from his crouch and drags his finger across her bottom eyelid, up and out, flicking the salt gathering at the corner.

God, this is _so embarrassing_. If she had her way, she would have done this herself— alone and in her own bedroom, with nobody to see the weakness she was displaying now— but _Jellal._

She makes a mental grunt, and opens her mouth. "You know, I can do the rest myse…"

Erza's words trail. She blinks at him as both of his hands ghost over her thigh, incredulous. He clicks his tongue, caressing the area around the wound. It doesn't hurt when he does this. They are clement touches… awfully tender— and she finds herself _almost_ whispering for him not to stop, because his hands feel weirdly good there; they're warm and cool at the same time— soothing, but _foreign_.

Erza analyses him in the way she would with a murder suspect, suspicious— she's never seen him act this gentle. There is something different in his eyes as he holds her.

"You…What are you thinking about?" She can't resist asking.

He hums. Their gazes don't meet. "Nothing."

"Really?"

Jellal chuckles like the evasive and secretive shit he is, grabbing the nearby gauze. "Wow, concern. You're a nice woman, Scarlet."

She puts on her interrogation voice. "I'm serious."

"…It's nothing important. I'm going to bandage you up now, alright?"

Without delay, he props her leg up delicately, and begins to wrap layers around her mid thigh. Every serene movement sends her heart in a unknown rage. His voice had never sounded so soft.

"So," he says, casually. "What are _you_ thinking about?"

She's blunt and quick. "This is fucking weird!"

"What is?" Jellal grins.

"No jokes this time? No mindless teasing or cockiness? You're _never_ this… sweet."

When she says it, his expression falls. The disappointment he displays makes her tense. "Can't a spy be worried for his partner?"

Erza is taken back. "What?"

"I…I just don't like seeing you get hurt."

He cuts the gauze, rolling his eyes at her silence. "I know I'm not the most satisfying person to be around, and the most we do with each other are just movies and missions— but we've been partners for two years now. We've been living in the same hideout. It's safe to say that I consider you a close friend, even though you might not feel that same way… You're actually kind of important to me, _Erza_ …believe it or not… So, how are you feeling? Is your leg better?"

Erza's breath catches in her throat.

He'd just said her first name.

Another first.

Her jaw nearly drops. In the two years she's known him, she's only ever heard him refer to her with _Scarlet,_ her code name. It'd served as her last name, and partially like a defining barrier in their relationship.

"Did you," she whispers, furrowing her brows. "Did you just…"

"What?" He murmurs.

"I…It…"

"Are you okay? Does it still hurt?"

The redhead gives a vigorous shake. "N-no…It… it feels a lot better."

He brightens. "Good—"

Before he can finish though, in an abrupt manner, she sits up and adjusts her position on the lumpy couch. Sucking in her bottom lip, she hunches forward, enough to the point where she can card her fingers through his silky hair.

Jellal freezes, and everything is quiet.

"…Thanks," Erza breathes, sincere. "Thank you, Jellal."

He is oddly silent now, and the atmosphere is awkward. Erza recollects her hand, shifting.

Jellal only moves after the longest of minutes.

It's so fast when he does it. The sting of her wound is nonexistent, her insides are warm and gushy and the hairs over the nape of her neck grow stiff when his dry lips drift over her cheek.

"Erza…If you ever die, and I live," his breath is hot against her face, and she can smell his faint (addicting) cologne. She shudders. An unfamiliar cavalry of emotions charge within her. "I'd have nothing."

Something sparks inside of her right after he says it. Erza groans irritably, shoving him away.

He stands up, grinning handsomely. "Did you like that? It was like we were actually Katniss and Peeta. Took me half an hour to memorize that line."

"You're such an idiot," she exhales, collapsing down to the cushion under her. Her volume dials down, voice resorting to nothing but a low mumble hidden within a breath. "To think… you were actually being serious for once."

Jellal doesn't respond, but before the disappointment gets to the better of her, she dismisses the thought. "Look. Tomorrow, we'll have to report to headquarters. Mission success. One injury," Erza mutters lazily. "It's getting pretty late. Say, can you hand me the DVD case—"

He cuts her off. "You know, I wasn't lying."

"What?" She says, lifting a brow.

And again, without a warning, he moves towards her, and kisses her— this time against her forehead. It's so sudden, so shameless just like the last one, except there is a bigger flurry of butterflies fluttering in her stomach, because it's longer, sweeter. Apologetic. The blush on her face returns.

"W-What are you—!"

"Don't you _ever_ die on me, Scarlet," and he swans away then, coming back with their collection of movies. "I swear to God. Promise me that, and you can choose the movie tonight."

Her expression softens.

Christ. This dolt.

"…I…I pro—"

Jellal raises his hand. "—No. Not like that."

Erza can't help but laugh at his pout. Of course. "Oh, God."

"Do it."

 _Just like Katniss and Peeta_ , she thinks with an exasperated sigh. _Sure_.

She whistles the mockingjay.

* * *

note: i struggle with aus

i wanted to make this into wall sex but i was like nah let's be cute and caring for once


End file.
